


Zero

by theficisalie



Series: Night Dust [4]
Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theficisalie/pseuds/theficisalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>blink twice for</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zero

**Author's Note:**

> beta: [kazzbot](http://www.kazzbot.livejournal.com)

The sky was wrong.

All wrong.

It had no shape, no colour, no...no...no...

It was nothing.

It was close. And short. And _wrong._

It was white.

Something wasn’t right.

(Right: a red leather jacket with black stripes, from dust to dust, around a pair of shoulders and arms. Right: a sharp nose and a pair of canines that were just this side of too long. Right: bleach and a sink, a pair of clippers that buzzed happily when turned on. “How long’s it supposed to stay on, Gee, it kinda fucking burns.” _Yeah, but it’ll look good when it’s done, trust me._ “How about you, I think yours is yellow now. How long’d they say to keep it on? How are we gonna get more?”

Right: taken care of. Watched. Watching. Waiting. For. Right, strong, holding on. Long and lean and always, always there.

Until.)

It wasn’t the sky. It couldn’t be. It ended...there. With a wall, white, that fell to the floor. Also white. Not cement, but not plastic either. Not warm.

(Warm: fire, a hand on a shoulder, lips, a smile, eyes, life, the sun, a gun, a radio, an engine, stretching under a spider, running from...to...with. With? Red, right. Blue. Green... Colour.)

Light. Was here. In this...room. The white reflected, or was a reflection? White, like a gun to the chin, like a beam of light to the brain, like...

Only, there was no mark. No burn. No.

(Eyes: cold, sure, black inside white. “This is it for you, I’m afraid. Or at least, I hope. That’s all we have, isn’t it? Hope? I hope you burn in hell, that’s what I want.” Only, there hadn’t been words, just the look in those eyes before...)

Blink once for yes.

Blink twice for

(“You know we aren’t going to make it, right?” _It doesn’t matter._ Green on yellow on black on wild on that _smile_. “I don’t want to go back. But I will.” _For Grace. Without her, we’re not right_. “Right. [a laugh, real and clean and as bright as the morning sun] Sure. I gave up on right five years ago. But then, I kicked the ass of this guy who likes to wear a stupid yellow mask and he still wanted me around.. And this other guy put me back together. And this kid believed in me. And a third guy looked at this kid like she was the stars in the sky. So sure, for Grace. But also for Ray, and Mikey.

“And you.”)

_“Party Poison.”_

(An idea. A person, but not a man, not a human, not a real. Tangible. Tangled. Mess.

A yellow mask.

That’s all.)

_“Wake up, Party Poison.”_

Gerard closed his eyes.

And the lights went out.


End file.
